


Dog with a Bone

by runrarebit



Series: Misfits Moments [15]
Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: AU, Alternate Timeline, Because apparently I can't let things go even though the writers would prefer it if we all forgot, Bottom!Nathan, Cock Worship, M/M, Nathan adores Simon's cock, Overstimulation, Rimming, Simon pisses on Nathan, Smut, Watersports, actual watersports, i guess?, just warning you, kind of weird and just- weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 10:44:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18776686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runrarebit/pseuds/runrarebit
Summary: The title's more directed at me than the fic itself. Ok, yes, basically weird smut. Set between s02e02 and s02e03, and not long afterFamily Fun Time.If you don't want to read about Simon pissing on Nathan then this is not the fic for you.





	Dog with a Bone

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe my low grade irritation at the way they tried to "fix" Simon's characterisation will be fixed now? Let us all hope. Anyway, piss kink fic with a touch of I dunno. Cock worship? but not like usual cock worship. You'll see what I mean if you end up reading it. 
> 
> Thank you all, as always, for reading and leaving comments and kudos! You're all wonderful! 
> 
> Also, I'm going to try and get an index up after posting this.

It’s his first time back at Simon’s since that night. It’s different, not being completely pissed this time, it means he can actually register the details of the place and not just the seasick blear of his own head and how much he wanted someone to touch him, remind him that he’s real, make him feel special, _loved_ — if only for a moment. It’d been too soon after Ruth, too soon after giving up on convincing his mum to let him come home—

Actually, forget that. If it hadn’t been so soon he probably wouldn’t have spent half the night trying to shag Simon— like, he might have offered to suck him off, but he doubts he’d have gone so far as to offer up his arse dry, and if he hadn’t done that and Simon hadn’t said “no”— 

Fuck. He’s lucky isn’t he? That he said “yes” when Simon asked him out for a drink after reburying those bodies.

Simon’s bedroom is very— Simon. Clean, neat, cold looking, dead butterflies with pins in— The other man is still sleeping, spread out on his back, naked, shagged into exhaustion, so he’s careful as he sits up, pulls back the covers, climbs out of the bed— and carefully pulls the covers back over his boyfriend— so he can go and take a piss. Neither Simon’s parents nor his sister are home right now, so that’s why he’s been invited over. Apparently Simon’s aunt’s back in hospital and his mum and his sister are doing something related to that, while his dad’s in Stockholm for work. 

It’s weird fucking in a proper bed in a place where you don’t have to worry about people walking in. Makes him nervous, almost. Seems more _formal._

As he pads down the hall trying to remember which door leads to the bathroom he observes that it’s not just Simon’s room that’s very _Simon._ The whole house is— odd. Not necessarily _bad_ odd, but odd. It’s all very neat, everything perfectly lined up, everything in its place, the colours muted and unsentimental— with the exception of the positively _florid_ guest room— a mass of pink and flowers and frills and lace and potpourri— who even still has potpourri? Which Simon had introduced with an uncomfortable, ‘It’s what my mum think’s a guest room’s supposed to be like.’ He doesn’t even think he’s passed a crooked painting anywhere, or one that was hung at a slightly different height than the others. It’s very different to his mum’s house— always warm and homely and a bit scruffy and ugly around the edges.

He’s alright as he’s heading over to the toilet, alright as he’s pissing, but when he goes over to the sink to wash his hands he spots the shower cubicle out of the corner of his eyes and feels it as his face flames up immediately. So, yes, he’d let his boyfriend piss on him. And, yes, it had been his idea—He knew it was something Simon was into, could remember the words gritted out while his boyfriend was in Alisha’s grasp, didn’t want Simon looking elsewhere if he wasn’t willing to put out. They’d done it here because he didn’t want to risk getting athletes foot on his entire lower body, which he might have done if he’d tried kneeling on the floor of the Community Centre showers. Thank fuck for flip-flops, hey? Though they don’t make them to protect your ballsack. 

He’d thought he’d been prepared for it, but it had been something else— on his knees, pinned in the shower cubicle by Simon’s body occupying the door— _not the face_ , they’d agreed beforehand, he didn’t really want to have to _drink_ it— and Simon had stuck to that. Hot liquid splattering across his neck, his collarbones, his chest, his _nipples_ — his boyfriend lingering there with his aim— before directing the stream down so that Simon had finished off pissing on his cock. 

Those grey eyes had been almost black, Simon’s gaze intense— It was like he was going to be eaten by a predator, but in a sexy way. His own cock had been hard by the end of it, his own body swaying into the stream, chasing that ticklish warmth— even though the thought of it still isn’t much of a turn-on. It was the way Simon’d reacted that did it for him—

He glances back at the shower cubicle, then away. He gets a sense they’ll end up doing that again— 

The minute that last drop had fallen from his boyfriend’s cock he’d had it in his mouth, not even caring about the lingering taste of piss as he’d swallowed it down, grabbing at Simon’s hip to encourage the other man to fuck his throat. It’s only taken a handful of thrusts, then Simon had warned him and he’d pulled back in time to take the man’s spunk on his tongue instead of straight down his throat where he wouldn’t be able to taste it properly. He’d swallowed, of course he’d swallowed, he _loves_ swallowing it, the only times he doesn’t are if Simon wants to cum on him, or he wants to let some of it spill out of his mouth so he can chase it down his skin with his fingers and suck them clean, or if they don’t have lube and they need something to slick his arse. 

The moment Simon had been done the other man had dragged him to his feet, spun him around without even a kiss, pinning him face first against the shower wall so _Simon_ could drop to his knees— in remnants of piss that hadn’t gone down the drain— and eat his arse. The other man had sucked it, licked it, tongue fucked it, slipping a hand up between his thighs to play with his cock and rub at his balls until he came, then had kept going, ignoring his twitching and whining and shying away from the stimulation until he came again, crying this time. 

They’d fucked properly once Simon got the shower running, though he hadn’t been much use himself. Feeling kind of floaty and stupid and content to be pinned in place against the wall and used until Simon had spunked up in him and he found himself cumming again. 

He slips a hand back there, feeling how hot and swollen it is, fingers running around the puffy rim. It hurts, but the pain sends shivers running through him and makes him _want it_. He wants to push them in, slip them up there, lean against the wall and fuck himself— but no. No. Simon’s just in the other room. It’d be a waste, wouldn’t it?

He creeps back out into the hall, heading back to Simon’s bedroom. His boyfriend’s thrown the covers off while he was away, naked body shining pale in the early morning light. He is dead fit, Simon. It’s fucking shocking in moments like this, exactly how good looking his boyfriend is. Handsome face, wide shoulders, strong hands, massive cock— and he’s been working out, so he’s just getting musclier by the day. Simon hasn’t said why, but he suspects it’s so it’s easier to fuck in certain positions— the first time they tried it up against the wall with his legs wrapped around the other man’s waist they keeled over like a pair of complete twats. 

He crawls back onto the bed, reaching for the covers so he can curl into his boyfriend’s side for a bit of a snuggle, but as he does his arm brushes against Simon’s cock and he hesitates, just taking a moment to admire it. It’s soft now, all shrunk in on itself and resting against the other man’s weighty balls, the whole lot kind of sitting on Simon’s upper right thigh. He reaches out and strokes a finger down it, from the nest of dark hair at the base to the head, just peeking a little out of Simons foreskin. 

He snuggles down, lying so his head is also resting on Simon’s thigh, and just _admires_ it for a moment. It’s a marvel, one of the howevermany wonders of the modern world. It’s _lovely._ And the way it makes him feel— better than alcohol, better than weed, better than E, better than coke the one disastrous and confusing time he’d tried it— he has a sudden and ridiculous surge of affection for it.

He sits up a little and reaches for it, the whole business, cock and balls all together, and cups them in his hands, leaning in to give them a nuzzle, before starting to pepper them with kisses, cradling and cooing at them like you might with a small fluffy animal, a kitten or a bunny or a puppy or something. He feels the cock twitch, start to swell, harden, and keeps going, keeps kissing it, nuzzling it, rubbing the side of his face against it—

‘Nathan? What—?’ he hears Simon say, voice sleep wrecked and confused. 

‘I adore you,’ he tells the cock and balls in his hands, focussing the light, pecking kisses on the shaft, peppering all the way from just under the head to the crepey skin where cock joins balls, then giving them a nuzzle. ‘Yes I do, I adore you. You’re a good cock, aren’t you? You fuck me so good—'

He keeps at it, gentle touches and pets, nuzzles and kisses, cooed praise as Simon bleats a series of confused questions at him, hips spasming upwards, before suddenly coming, squirting spunk across the side of his face and into his hair. He giggles, delighted, pressing one last gently kiss to Simon’s cockhead, feeling the man’s hips twitch as he does so, before letting his boyfriend reach for him and pull him up the bed and into his arms. 

‘What was that about?’ Simon asks once he’s caught his breath, cupping the side of his face and wiping at the spunk there. 

He grabs the man’s hand and leads it to his mouth, sucking those fingers clean, before smiling like an idiot, the wave of affection he felt for Simon’s cock expanding to include the entirety of Simon himself. ‘I am so fucking glad you’re my boyfriend,’ he says. ‘Now how about you finger me until either I come or you get hard again so you can fuck me?’


End file.
